GOUROC.

By helping me to save another man’s life.

MARDOCHE.

I do not understand.

GOUROC.

The Due de Beaumont has been discovered, and is about
to be condemned. For reasons of my own, I wish
to save his life. There is but one way.
You, who are destined to die soon, must be disguised
as the Duke, answer to his name, and go to the scaffold
in his stead. Consent to do this—­and
you shall place in your sister’s hands 10,000
francs in gold.

MARDOCHE.

What! That Jacobin of Jacobins, Gouroc, asks
a cobbler to save a Duke—?

GOUROC.

Why not? The Republic is poor, the Duke is rich.
He has been condemned for our glory. But if his
secret escape will bring us gold, why not crown the
Republic with riches as well as fame? Is not this
Patriotism?

MARDOCHE.

Yes, Patriotism to-day! Yesterday and to-morrow—­Jesuitism.

GOUROC.

Well, your answer. Will you save the Duke?

MARDOCHE.

[After a pause.]

I will.

GOUROC.

Good! In your cell you’ll find everything
for your disguise.

MARDOCHE.

[As howls are heard outside.]

Listen.—­That is the voice of fraternity
shrieking for fratricide!

GOUROC.

By heaven! No cobbler talks as you do!—­Who
are you? What are you?

MARDOCHE.

A victim—­to present madness! An atonement—­for
past wrongs! A pledge for future progress!—­The
Abbe de St. Simon.

GOUROC.

Ha! As I suspected.

[SOLDIERS are heard approaching.]

Take care!—­Hurry to your cell; they are
coming for the Duke.

MARDOCHE.

And my sister—?

GOUROC.

You shall have the money at your parting.

MARDOCHE.

Thus my death will bring her more than all the years
I might have lived to love her. [Exit.